


Heaven Is Inside You

by fracturedvaels



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Office Sex, light D/s elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 14:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3329114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fracturedvaels/pseuds/fracturedvaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Pavus is polite enough to wait till Cullen's hung up, but when the blond turns around, he's right up on him. Cullen slides his phone into his pocket, hands already trembling a bit with nervousness. "Sir," he manages, not sure if the predatory look in Mr. Pavus' eye is underlined by annoyance or something else, "was I - was there - is there something you need?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven Is Inside You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tralevite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tralevite/gifts), [aalleexxwhat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aalleexxwhat/gifts).



> For Alex, to whom I promised explicit delicious Cullrian porn, and for Nissa, without whom this story would not have come to be. So, naturally, if you hate it - blame them. Heh.
> 
> As usual, there might be errors so if you see something please let me know in the comments.

Mr. Pavus finds him twenty minutes after he's already clocked out, in the breakroom. Cullen's not hanging back for any reason, he just got caught up in a phone call, assuring his sister he was fine at his new job in a new town several states away.

Mr. Pavus is polite enough to wait till Cullen's hung up, but when the blond turns around, he's right up on him. Cullen slides his phone into his pocket, hands already trembling a bit with nervousness. "Sir," he manages, not sure if the predatory look in Mr. Pavus' eye is underlined by annoyance or something else, "was I - was there - is there something you need?"

A quirk of the lips, corner of his mouth twitching, but no further change to expression. He's quiet long enough that Cullen considers muttering a 'well yes thank you nice meeting you' and sliding out of the room, when the man suddenly takes a step _forward, toward_ him, and backs him into the counter.

They're not quick, hurried steps; they're controlled, catlike, graceful and powerful. Before he knows it, Cullen is pressed with his lower back against the counter, and his new boss is balanced with his fists on either side of Cullen's hips. It hadn't occurred to him when they met that the well-groomed man was a good three or four inches taller than Cullen, and that he was broader - built, muscular in a way that was meant to show how he took care and pride in his body.

"You know, Cullen," his eyes rake over Cullen's face, and the blond envies the control. There's not the slightest display of emotion, and it makes his stomach twist about in such a good way. "This flirting's all well and nice, but I am _not_ a nice man."

Cullen feels like his heart has leaped into his chest. Had he - was he - had it been _obvious_? He thought he'd been clever about it, covering his blushing and stuttering with jokes. Maker, he was an idiot. And he was never good at flirting, so why should he be good at covering it up? Of course he fucking wasn't.

He thought he was going to melt under Mr. Pavus' gaze, and honestly, it would've been preferable. "Sir, I - I don't know - " Eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips and back again, so quickly Cullen thought he might've imagined it. Then they do it again, and a smirk comes, daring him to lie, to stammer out his weak excuse.

"But I'm not an _impatient_ man." Cullen is so close he can see the muscle in Mr. Pavus' jaw twitch. "And I can tell you're the type who wants dinner first."

The tone is joking, lightly mocking, but it's not _cruel_. "Mr. Pavus, I-I can't accept that," his boss' eyes darken a bit and Cullen feels bad, he feels the hurt, and quickly backtracks. "Not - not that I don't want to! Of course, I-I do, it's just, you're, well - "

"The boss."

Cullen nods, hoping he hasn't ruined something already. _Already_ , on his _first_ day.

Mr. Pavus seems to study him for the ten seconds of silence, before finally saying, "Then let's clear something up. I, a person you have met and has shown an interest in you, am inviting you out to dinner. Your boss, who clocked out twenty minutes ago, is not. If you as the subordinate and you as the new person in town who could surely use some friends cannot reconcile that, well..."

Cullen swallows, nervously. He is making a solid point. Cullen thinks: _is_ he refusing as the subordinate? Surely it can't be totally appropriate to accept such an invitation, but if he passes up an opportunity...

On one hand, he doesn't know Mr. Pavus all that well. There's no telling on if this will make him turn vindictive or spiteful, and that's terrifying to think about. But on the other hand, again, he doesn't know Mr. Pavus that well. It could just be an invitation, innocuous enough, and one that there won't be hard feelings over if he turns down.

Before he can convince himself no, he finally stammers out an, "I, I would love to get dinner. With you. Somewhere." He doesn't say _I'm terrified of what this will do to my job if I say no,_ because Mr. Pavus might already know that, and he also doesn't want to offend him.

The dark haired man's smirk comes back, tight and more smug. He leans pushes away from Cullen, off of the counter, and says, "Grand. There's a nice place, serves Tevinter food, about two blocks away from here. I'll meet you there in about," he looks at the watch on his wrist - a fancy thing, likely for show and not actual use, "two hours?" He turns and starts towards the door.

Cullen's brain starts thumping. He hadn't expected it so soon. "I - "

"No wait, three blocks. _The Archon's Retreat_ , it's called. Lovely place."

"I - "

"Do be sure to wash up. It's not _too_ fancy, but you don't want to look like any old grifter, do you?" Mr. Pavus pauses at the door, then turns around. "My treat, unless you're truly uncomfortable with that. Oh, and while we're there..." He looks Cullen up and down again, although his expression seems...softer. Nicer, almost. If this is how he displays nervousness, Cullen is terrified. "Just Dorian will do."

"Yes, sir," Cullen manages, voice quiet and squeaky. Si - Mr. Pav - _Dorian_ winks at him, and then leaves.

 

\---

 

The first thing Cullen does when he makes it back to his apartment is grab a pillow off of the couch and scream into it. His chest hasn't stopped thumping since he left the office, and he doesn't know if that's all terror or if there's some excitement there.

He boots up his laptop and makes himself a cup of coffee - plain, black, too strong, to wake himself up. He searches for the place Dorian mentioned, half convinced he was making it up, but no - it's real. And then he looks at their menu, and their prices, and almost has to reach for the pillow again.

And finally he puts the address in his phone, and goes to take a shower, and get dressed. It's not the type of place that has a dress code but he doesn't own anything nicer than his work clothes. But he finds something, and he hopes he looks nice, or at least acceptable, and then he waits.

He takes the longest route he can afford, and ends up ten minutes late. Well, late-ish, he figures; Mr - Dorian - hadn't given him an exact time to arrive. So he shows up at what he figures is probably later than he should, and he finds himself sighing in relief when he sees Dorian in the front waiting area.

The other man waves him over, immediately putting an arm around Cullen's shoulders once he's in reach to steer him along. "I almost thought you weren't coming," he says, and Cullen thinks he can catch a relieved tone to his words. "You look nice."

"Thank you," he manages, and he wants to return the compliment, but Dorian gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"Don't bother returning it, I always look nice." Cullen laughs, nervously, but Dorian's own chuckle is genuine. He takes him to a table in the far back, cozy and dimly lit, and wastes no time immediately throwing into conversation. It's casual, surprisingly light, and Cullen thinks maybe he imagined the devouring gaze Dorian had given earlier in the office. It isn't until the waitress brings them drinks - water for Cullen, who is nervous and drymouthed, and red wine for Dorian, who clearly isn't - does the tone change.

"I don't want to give you the wrong impression, Cullen," Dorian says between sips of wine. He's leaned back, relaxed looking - one hand in his lap, his legs crossed, ankle on his knee. A posture that oozes power and control. It's unnerving - and very hot. "I am very interested in you as much more than just a colleague."

There's no pillow for him to reach for if he needs to scream, so Cullen focuses on drinking his water. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was.

Dorian takes his pause as reason to continue. "I don't typically date Southerners - Ferelden is well enough, I do like living here, believe me - but...there is, there is **something** about you. Something charming, even. You are a very lovely man, I hope you don't mind me saying - "

Cullen almost loses his grip on his glass, and he does almost drop his jaw before realizing he has a _mouth full of water_. Some of it dribbles, onto the table, onto his shirt, and he has to press the back of his hand to his mouth as he chokes it down. When he looks up, Dorian is staring at him with...not with a _disgusted_ look. Not even confused. Shocked, obviously, and his brow is raised.

"I'm sorry, was that too for - are you - " Dorian's expression is one of concern, even though he almost sounds annoyed. "Cullen, are you...not attracted to men?"

"What." Cullen wipes his mouth. "What? No, I - I definitely. I definitely am attracted to men. And women! But I mean yes, men, too, I - " Dorian's face relaxes, and now he's _amused_. Smug bastard. "I'm just. That caught me off guard. My apologies."

Dorian's smirk returns. "Of course. Too forward. No, that's my bad, I apologize." When Cullen straightens up, Dorian uncrosses his legs and leans forward. He puts the wine glass down, and moves his hand to cover Cullen's. "Let me be totally clear about this, then: like I said, I am very interested in you."

"You like me," Cullen echoes, weakly. His cheeks burn, his tone is too excited. Only the pressure of Dorian's palm over the back of his hand keeps him from nervously carving into the wood tabletop.

"Very much so. I think you're absolutely delightful. And this can go anywhere you want, whether you're interested in something light and casual, or..." His thumb rubs along the base of Cullen's. His voice is heavier when he speaks next, and he leans just a little closer, and he says, "Or something a little more serious."

Cullen is not, even though Dorian said otherwise, charming. And he has none of the smoothness or suaveness the other man is oozing. "What's the difference?"

"Well, I guess you'll just have to pick and find out, won't you?" There's something...hungry, about Dorian's expression. Cullen _is terrified_ , nervous, skin crawling...but he's excited, definitely excited, and definitely _interested_.

With the small amount of courage he can muster up, he says, "Surprise me," and finds he's not at all turned off by the growing grin on Dorian's face.

And when he walks home that night, after accepting a few glasses of red wine, he feels like he's floating. It's good, he decides, to be wanted.

 

\---

 

Dorian, it appears, has decided to keep their relationship mostly casual. Inside of the office he's still Mr. Pavus, or sir, and Cullen is surprised at himself for keeping as calm as he does. Afterwards, it's different, and always something exciting; it's dancing, or it's to the park, or it's museums or it's bookstores. Dorian can make even something so bland as dinner and a film nice and exciting.

He's quick witted. Smarter than Cullen could ever hope to be, but he doesn't - there's no talking _down_ to Cullen. He's a smart ass, for sure, but he never makes Cullen feel stupid about anything. When Cullen makes jokes, he laughs, and when Cullen asks him to explain something, he does it in a way that Cullen can grasp. He never talks to Cullen like the blond is childish, he just talks to him in ways he can understand.

And Cullen forgets about Dorian's suggested serious side, for the first seven months. Till one day, at work, when Dorian calls him into his office.

Cullen has never been in Dorian's office. It's large, and the windows are darkened so you can't see in, but he can see out. Standard office, mostly, with floor-to-ceiling windows. The desk is big, sturdy looking, and Cullen notes that it's surprisingly clear of anything useful for work. Even the comfy office chair has been pushed away.

When he enters, Dorian turns his head only slightly. He's looking out of the windows, one hand in his pocket, feet apart, hand on his chin. "Cullen, lock the door, please." He requests. Cullen is nervous, though he doesn't know why; nothing in Dorian's tone implies that he's in trouble.

Once he's sure the heavy wooden door is locked, he cautiously crosses the room till he's between Dorian and the desk. Dorian has returned to looking out over the city streets and the overcast, rainy sky; it's a powerful sight, reminding Cullen very well of mad-man stereotype, the kind one would see in period dramas on TV. Still more than a little unnerved and perhaps too curious for his own good, Cullen says, "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Dorian chuckles and says, quietly, "Sir. Yes, that's good, I like that."

Cullen shuffles is feet. He's never felt quiet so small before, really. "Sir?" He repeats, when Dorian says nothing more.

His boyfriend - if he can call him that, as Dorian has said he could - turns around slowly. Cullen feels flutters in his chest, has to stop himself from sighing dreamily like a bloody teenager. Dorian has a look on his face that Cullen has seen only once before, and that was that first day of work, when he cornered him in the breakroom to talk to him.

"Do you remember our first date, darling?" He asks. Cullen nods, slowly. "And do you remember when I said we could take - " he waves a hand between the two of them - "this, whatever it was, as casual or serious as you like?"

Cullen doesn't miss the way he says it. Strong, authoritative, _firm_. But sweet, and cautious, and even just a little bit nervous. Cullen nods again.

Dorian takes his hand out of his pocket, and crosses the room. Again, it reminds Cullen of their meeting in the breakroom; serious strides, powerful strides, and soon Cullen is crowded again - this time against the _very_ sturdy desk.

This time Dorian's hands are flat on the desk top, and there's no respectful gap between then. Cullen doesn't hold back his surprised gasp as Dorian leans in - pausing just a second - and then captures his lips in a kiss.

It's delicious, heavy, stronger than any of the chaste kisses Dorian has given him since they started officially dating. Possessive and overwhelming, and Cullen can't help but grind his hips against Dorian's, putting his arms around the other man's neck. Dorian's own hands find their way down to Cullen's ass and he squeezes hard, pulling back to savor the soft moan Cullen lets out.

His voice is barely a whisper when he says, "What do you say we explore that more serious side?"

"Here?" Cullen's own voice is also barely a whisper, though for different reasons. When Dorian nods and runs his hands up and down, up and down, very gently, Cullen finds he has to take deeper breaths to calm himself. "In your office? But won't people..."

Before Cullen can finish his reply, Dorian lifts him up onto the desk. It's not the first time he's picked Cullen up but the reason why and the fact that his hands are still on Cullen's backside till he's deposited onto the desktop do make him give an undignified squeak.

"Here," he says. "Right here, in my office. It is _mine_ , after all." His hands have moved to Cullen's hips now, and Cullens arms are a little more relaxed. Dorian pulls back a bit so there's more space between them and says, in a very serious tone, "Cullen, if you don't want to do this, we don't have to. I won't be upset at you for saying no."

Cullen swallows his nervous laugh and says, "You mean that?"

"I mean it," Dorian says, with the level of severity one would discuss a plane crash. "You say no, it's a no. You say stop, we stop this."

"And you promise that?"

Dorian nods, never once breaking eye contact, never once moving his hands farther than Cullen's hips. "I promise."

Cullen turns the words over in his head a few times, then finally says, " _Don't_ stop."

Dorian leans in almost immediately, kissing him again. His hands go to Cullen's belt, unbuckling it, then his zipper and button. Before Cullen knows it he's naked from the waist down, and Dorian is still fully clothed, still fully in control.

Cullen finds he likes it that way. When Dorian pulls him close, holds him tight, he feels giddy inside, and warm. And protected, to a degree.

Dorian breaks the kiss to catch his breath and lean over to dig in his drawer. From it he pulls out a bottle of slick and condom, and Cullen has to chuckle. "Really?"

"Well, it never hurts to be prepared." He says. He steps back to unclip his suspenders and undo his own belt, zipper and button, and when he pushes them down to his thighs, Cullen has to bite his lip from whistling.

Dorian smirks, and shrugs out of his jacket. "Impressive, I know."

"Very." Cullen finds he either can't or doesn't want to take his eyes away.

"Not that you're not impressive," Dorian doesn't seem to notice. "It's just...well."

"Oh, I know," Dorian had to unbutton Cullen's shirt for him, distracting him with kisses down and back up his chest. As Cullen shrugged out of it, he grabbed the bottle of slick and popped it open. He poured out a generous amount, then caught Cullen's eye with his own and began talking.

"I like it when you call me sir," Dorian slips his hand between Cullen's thighs. He talks to distract him, soften him up. With the hand not occupied with stretching Cullen open, he reached up, pushing the index and middle finger of his other hand into Cullen's mouth. He doesn't have to order Cullen about what to do, because the blond immediately begins to suck on them.

Dorian licks his lips as he watches him. "From this point forward, you are mine as I am yours. And I will do things to you that you have _never_ thought you could want before. Do you understand?" He pulls his fingers free from Cullen's mouth and presses the palm of that hand to Cullen's cheek. The blond nods, fervent, his body already trembling in anticipation.

"Yes sir," he gasps as Dorian pulls the fingers of his other hand free, and reaches for the jacket he'd left lying on the desk top. He wipes off his hand, carelessly, then reaches for the condom and tore it open.

"Are you ready?" He asks. Cullen nods. "You're sure?" Another nod, and Cullen puts his hands on Dorian's shoulders again, digging his nails into them. He _is_ sure, but he was obviously so nervous, and that made Dorian smirk. He puts his hands on Cullen's hips and pulls him forward, then takes his own hard cock in hand, and distracts the blond with a deep and tender kiss as he pushed in.

Cullen's surprised gasp is muffled by Dorian's mouth. Dorian takes a few seconds and waits till Cullen nods, letting him know he was good, before he gives a good few rolls of his hips. Cullen's arms slides back around Dorian's neck, one hand tangling up in the usually well-kept dark hair.

Dorian's thrusts vary in pace. They start out deeper, slower, not saying anything at first; he gives Cullen sweet kisses, gentle kisses, both on his mouth and along his jaw, up and down his neck, behind his ear. Every inch of Cullen was his to be explored, to enjoy, and Dorian wasn't going to waste such an experience.

Through his heavy, excited breathing, Cullen finally manages to gasp out, "More. More, _please_ , I need - I need it, _please_."

"You need it?" Dorian asks, daring him, and slowly begins picking up the pace of his thrusts. "You need it, or you _want_ it?"

A particularly hard thrust makes Cullen press his face against Dorian's neck to muffle his moan, and that just encourages him. Dorian obliges him, though, and soon he was thrusting harder and faster. "Like _that_?" He hisses out, slowing down when Cullen doesn't answer immediately. He gives an embarrassingly and worryingly loud moan, one Dorian tries to stifle with a kiss.

"Like that. Please, please," Dorian continues to slow down his pace, looking Cullen in the eye, waiting for what he wants to hear. Cullen seems to be biting back frustrated, excited cries, finally managing a, "please, _sir_."

"Good boy," Dorian works his hands under Cullen's backside enough to lift him up a bit, to scoot him forward to meet a good, hard thrust of his hips. He picks his pace back up again and lets Cullen pull him forward, groaning softly when he fees nails rake across his back from shoulder to shoulder.

Dorian is close. He can feel it; he pulls Cullen tight against his body and grinds his hips against him, gritting his teeth as he came. Cullen's own teeth in his shoulder don't help in the least.

Dorian is still shaky-legged, still reeling from his own orgasm, when he slowly pulls out of Cullen. For a moment the blond is worried - he was still hard, and Dorian hadn't seemed to notice, and though it wouldn't be the first time he'd been told it was "your problem, not mine", he knew it would hurt significantly more this time.

But Dorian moves to his knees without hesitation. He pushes Cullen's thighs apart, hooks his arms around them to hold him down, and immediately takes Cullen's still-hard cock into his mouth.

Cullen presses his own hands to his mouth. He'd received blowjobs before but they were all, in comparison, bad; younger boy and girlfriends who didn't know how to balance, who would rather choke it down and get it over with than make it feel at all enjoyable for either of them. Dorian is _obscenely_ good, so good, and so well practiced, that Cullen didn't last long, coming with a heavily smothered cry while his toes curled and his thighs threatening to squeeze closed.

Cullen was expecting Dorian to pull away before he even climaxed, but Dorian didn't. He held out, and waited, but didn't hesitate to lean over his small trash can when Cullen was done and spit.

Dorian stands up, slowly, still breathing heavily. As he pulls the condom off and ties it up, he says, "I'm so sorry. Normally I'd just, you know, suck it up and swallow, but I didn't feel like walking around with that taste on the back of my throat."

Cullen scoffs and shakes his head. "It's fine," he shrugs, and after he's dropped the condom into the can too Dorian slides back between Cullen's legs and kisses him. It's a deep, romantic type of kiss, meant for Cullen's comfort. Dorian's hands cup his face and Cullen puts his own over top of them, letting himself melt into the touch and the taste and the warmth. He feels _incredible._

When they finally break away, their faces barely an inch apart, their hands still together, Cullen says, "You're a very, very handsome man, Dorian Pavus."

Dorian smiles in a way that Cullen hasn't seen before - so much softer, and sweeter, and proud. It makes him feel tingly and ridiculous. "Mmm, as are you," he replies. The smile melts away to a serious, caring expression. "You are an incredible, beautiful man, Cullen. And I..." He sighs, then seems to swallow a lump in his throat.

Cullen cuts his next words off with another kiss, this time more chaste. "It's okay," he assures him. "You don't have to say it."

Dorian brings their faces together and nuzzles him, gently. "Oh, but I will. I know it. Soon." He kisses the bridge of Cullen's nose then pulls away entirely.

As they redress, a thought occurs to Cullen.

"Dorian." He waits for a soft 'mmm' in reply. "Earlier, you said...something."

"I did. I said a lot of things." Dorian stretches his arms out, grimacing. "You'll have to be more specific, darling."

Cullen watches Dorian stretch, knowing why he was uncomfortable, but doesn't tell him. Instead, he says, "Earlier, before we started, you said...if I wanted to stop, we could."

"Right."

"Did you mean it?"

Dorian pauses his stretching and looks at Cullen very seriously. "Of course I meant it. I still do, I - " he leans from foot to foot, eyeing Cullen up and down. "Cullen, were you uncomfortable at all with what we just did?"

"Oh, no, of course not. I actually...really rather liked it." Cullen has returned to sitting on the desk, his hands on either side of his thighs as he kicks his feet back and forth. His head is bowed, eyes on his shoes, a shy smile gracing his features. Dorian feels his own stomach flutter, looking at him.

"I just wanted to know if you were certain. If you were serious. And...what it means, for us."

Dorian crosses back over to Cullen, clicking his tongue in thought, then puts his hands over top of Cullen's and leans into his space. "It means that I...would...like permission from you to be your dom. Sort of."

"Oh." Cullen lets the words sink in.

"Oh," Dorian parrots back. "You're not - "

"No, I like it. Cullen looks up at him, and he still as that smile. "A lot."

His face doesn't show it, but Dorian is relieved. "We can talk about it more, later. If you want. But I need you to know that I never want you to feel unsafe around me. When we're together, you should feel good, and protected, and like you're wanted. Nothing less. I will never make you do something you're not comfortable with. Understand?" Cullen nods, and Dorian cups his face, kissing him once on the forehead and once on the mouth.

When he pulls away, he glances at the watch on his wrist. "You better get back to work. If anyone asks what we were doing, we were going over some...thing. Paperwork. Make up a good excuse."

Cullen hops off the desk and makes to leave. He's already unlocked and is opening the door when he hears Dorian ask - not exactly to him, but outloud nonetheless - "Why is my _shirt_ so _tight_?"

"Probably because you're wearing my shirt," Cullen responds, before daring out of the room before Dorian can do anything about it.


End file.
